


Resurrection Man

by robots



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timeline AU, Artificial Intelligence, Corpse theft, Mystery, Nuclear Warfare, Organ Theft, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Philosophical Discussions, Robot Body Horror, Unreliable Narrator, android identity politics, android intimacy, corpse theft au, elements of alice in wonderland, elements of repo the genetic opera too while im at it, gaining humanity, i dont know whats going on and im sorry, imagery evocative of existing characters, post technological singularity AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 23:37:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15181829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robots/pseuds/robots
Summary: Detroit, 10 years after the Singularity.An RK-800 resurrection model android, call sign Connor, is deployed into the Eastern Michigan Exclusion Zone to track down and repossess valuable thirium supplies that were abandoned when the city became uninhabitable. After his navigational array is damaged in an accident, Connor finds himself adrift in a strange landscape, where nothing is quite as it seems.





	Resurrection Man

**Author's Note:**

> This was born partially out of a desire to explore the parts of the whole 'artificial intelligence' discussion that DBH completely ignored or glossed over, and partially out of a desire to write about gross robot guts and injuries.

Conducting a search for the terms {[Detroit & (“Sunrise” OR “Sunset”)] DATERANGE:2465398.480982468876.48098}, cross-referenced through A&HCI and the LOC yielded 37 poems, 9 works of artistic prose, and 5 songs. 

Of note: 82.352% of these works made either overt or oblique references to radiation, nuclear fallout, or atomic weaponry. 

Of note: 69.04% of those works also made reference to beauty.

Of note: 68.975% of those works, 20 works in total, made speculation into the aesthetic effects of radiation, nuclear fallout, or atomic weaponry on (“Sunrise” OR “Sunset”.)

As the RK800 unit (call sign: Connor) rappelled to the bottom of the dried shipping channel, he watched the sky begin to lighten with dawn, and wondered why. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bright, white lights. 

“State your model and your function for the recording, please.”

“I am a RK800 prototype android commissioned by Cyberlife. I am designed for use as a tracker and resurrectionist.”

“Good, good.”

A bored looking human lab tech circled around to the RK800’s left, staring resolutely at the instrument in their hands. The south side of the room was a gigantic display which was being fed data directly from the RK800’s central processor. Response times, logic paths, CPU scores.

“State your current primary mission.”

The RK800 scanned the lab tech for personal data in the time it took an electron to orbit a nucleus.

 

FACIAL RECOGNITION…………..FACE COVERED. UNAVAILABLE. 

NAME TAG…………..IESHA GERNSBACK

SECURITY CLEARANCE………..LEVEL 2

 

“My apologies, but you are not authorized to receive that information.”

There was a beat of silence, the only sound the hum of electricity flowing through the room around them.

“We are going to run you through a series of simulations. They are going to occur synaptically so you may go into standby mode if you wish.”

The RK800 nodded briefly before relaxing back against the table to which it was wired. It closed its eyes, disengaging from its optical feed.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Lake St. Clair, at one time a popular shipping channel, fishing destination, and leisure site, had long since dried up. It had not been a deep lake, averaging a depth of 11ft. The basin sloped gently to its lowest point, before leveling out to almost sea level along what had been the shore. Now dogwood meadows and sedge thickets thrived across the areas that had once been completely under water. Heavy summer rains were occasionally known the fill the basin with up to 1ft of standing water, but quickly drained due to the sandy soil. Panicgrass, swamp thistle, and touch-me-nots grew thick. 

Connor had wondered why the plants were called that, called ‘touch-me-nots,’ and his investigative drive took over. He had gotten a face full of seeds for his trouble, but he now had his answer.

Projectile plants notwithstanding, the trek across the emptied lake bed had been an easy one. Until he’d gotten to the ravine.

Ravine wasn’t really the correct word- the formation was not natural. It had once been a shipping channel, dredged out of the shallow lake by the United States Army Corps of Engineers to facilitate lake freighter passage between Lake Huron and Lake Erie. It had been re-dredged again in 2023, giving it a total depth of 36 ft.  
Luckily, his handlers had seen fit to outfit him with light climbing gear, essential for the urban exploration that his mission called for. 

The bottom of the abandoned shipping channel was noticeably colder and darker than the surface, as would be expected. Sunlight wouldn’t reach down here for another 3 hours. 

It was also noticeably damper. Irritatingly so. The channel’s position as the lowest point in a 4 hectare area meant that much of the area’s rainwater collected here before returning to the water table. Early summer was a rainy time in eastern Michigan, and Connor was coated in mud from the thigh down before he’d traveled 200 meters. Some flecked into his open mouth and the analysis began automatically.

 

SOIL ANALYSIS…….. ALKALINE,  
COMPOSITION……... 52% CLAY  
47% SILT,  
1% ROCK FRAGMENTS

 

He force stopped the analysis when additive recommendations started to pop up. 

As unpleasant as it was to navigate, the ravine was of supreme importance to his mission. It was his point of entry into the Eastern Michigan Exclusion Zone, and it would serve as his extraction point. It was essential that the pilot who would be retrieving him be able to navigate visually using landmarks- the telecommunications dead zone around Detroit meant the use of navigational equipment and other forms of telemetrics was strictly out of the question. 

Connor’s own navigational interface was linked to an internally hosted map, and his external wireless communications relays and trackers had been black boxed. He could not contact any networks hosted outside the limits of the Detroit dead zone, even if he tried.

 

The safety and integrity of the global communication network must not be allowed to be compromised.

 

Above Connor, the sky continued to brighten.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The RK800 was programmed with instructions for the complete disassembly of over 1000 types of android- every consumer and commercial model that had even been produced industrially, as well as their prototypes.  
Every android model that had been designed and built in Detroit during Cyberlife’s initial run was represented in the RK800’s code as a set of bullet points and component numbers. 

The simulations the RK800 was being run through covered a fair sampling of these. So far it had disassembled 308 androids of all different makes. What would have taken hours to do physically was done digitally in less time than it was going to take the lab tech to return with their coffee. 

So far, every simulation had gone much the same way. The RK800 was presented with an android, or the remains of one. If it was possible, the thirium would be drained. Then the RK800 would evaluate any damage the android might have, and determine which parts could be salvaged. Its biocomponents would then be removed, tagged, and stored.

The android currently beneath the RK800 was a fairly standard model. A PL600. Once a popular domestic assistant, the line had been decommissioned 10 years ago.

Sourceless light reflected off the PL600’s skin, and its pale eyes stared blankly up at nothing. A single gunshot located beneath its chin was the only sign of damage.

The RK800 worked in silence.

The access panel on the PL600’s abdomen slid aside easily, and the RK800 assessed the damage.

 

CIRCULATORY SYSTEM………….CLOSED

DEHYDRATION CHANCE………... <9%

PROCEED

 

The RK800 brushed some wires aside to access the main fuel line. It twisted and pulled, and the line detached with a snap. A small amount of blue fluid dribbled out before stopping. Without power, the thirium would remain dead in its lines. 

The RK800 attached one of the collection bags it had at the ready to the loose line. Next was the fuel pump regulator. The android’s artificial heart would have to be beating for the bag to fill.

The RK800 sunk its fingers into the regulator and twisted, loosening it just enough to get his fingers under the edge of the mount and against raw circuitry. Then it activated the specialized relays in its fingertips and began to feed electrical charge into the regulator. Skin faded away into white where it was touching the regulator.

Slowly, the PL600’s fuel pump started to beat. As it beat, the collection bag slowly started to fill. Blue gold, some called it. A human colloquialism, denoting the high value of the substance. 

The bag was filled. The RK800 cut the electrical charge and attached another before resuming. Easy. Straightforward. 

It was on the third bag when something changed. As the RK800 began to feed charge into the pump regulator, the PL600 did something which no other simulated android had done so far. 

 

It woke up.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Connor had followed the ravine to where it fed into the Detroit River bed, past Belle Isle, and to his point of entry into the city proper. When the St. Clair River had been dammed, and the waterflow from Lake Huron had been diverted through a channel that bypassed Detroit entirely, the Detroit River had also dried up. Luckily nearly the entire waterfront had been built up, and that meant dock ladders.

Connor hoisted himself up into Detroit into what had once been a waterfront park, and what was now, by all appearances, a wilderness reclamation area. Invasive ornamentals, locked in competition with native flora. As he made his way towards the nearest street a caspian tern, startled by his presence, burst from its hiding place amongst the weeds. Connor tracked its flight path and surveyed his surroundings.  
Old brickwork warehouses, abandoned long before the city was, stood amidst fields of weeds and rusted chain link fences. He was still 1.5 miles northeast of downtown, and 2.2 miles north by northeast of ground zero. He shifted to face the optimal direction, adjusting the large pack on his back. 

Background radiation levels read at only slightly elevated above normal, within acceptable parameters given the latitude and the time of year, but that was to be expected, given the rate of decay in the isotopes that had been used in the bomb. 

He attempted to form a conclusion. He failed, and was left with only facts.

Detroit had been inhabitable almost as long as it had been abandoned.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The PL600 was staring directly at the RK800. An impressive facsimile of fear and pain flashed across its features. Its hands gripped the RK800’s arm.

The RK800 froze. This was unexpected, but not insurmountable. Strange, though, that simulation programmers chose to add this here. 

Static choked the PL600’s voice as it fought through feedback to speak.

“W̵h̵a̶t̵ ̷…w̵̳̆͜ -what are you doing? What’s g̶o̷i̸n̵g̷ ̶o̵n̵?”

The RK800 just upped the amperage of the electricity flowing through its fingers. The PL600’s fuel pump began to beat faster. The collection bag began to fill faster as well. 

The PL600 was struggling now, kicking ineffectually against the invisible ground, attempting to push the RK800 away. It was too weak to truly fight back. Fluid loss resulting in diminished power to hydraulic systems. 

“S̴t̷o̷p̷.̴ S̶͇̹̪͕̋͂͌͊-̶̪̫͕̎́͠s̷͇̫̹̘͙̎͋t̸͉͖͓̱̉̐o̴̬͒̍͠͝p̴̟̜̼̥̏̈̏͠!̵͓̀͜”

The RK800 did not stop. With a practiced motion it removed the full bag of thirium from the PL600’s access cavity and attached another to its main fuel line.

The PL600 began to sob, weak staticky hitches of breath. 

The RK800 reached the hand not currently pumping charge into the other android’s chest up to cover its mouth. Its skin faded to white as it engaged an override code that would shut off the PL600’s voice box completely. 

Just another simulation. A test. How did the RK800 handle unexpected variables?

The RK800 finished draining the android in silence. Its struggles weakened the more thirium was drained, and by the time the 5th bag was filled it stopped moving completely.


End file.
